


sand in my collar, got the sand in my hair

by sadiewhitten



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:44:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadiewhitten/pseuds/sadiewhitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three super soldiers and a master assassin walk into a diner in the desert. Post CATWS drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sand in my collar, got the sand in my hair

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this photo set](http://babbleon.tumblr.com/post/81905121270/someone-should-write-a-story-based-on-these) on Tumblr made by [babbleon](http://babbleon.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Title comes from "Desert Blues" by The Allman Brothers

When they end up stranded in the desert Sam finds himself wishing that he’d joined a fully operational SHIELD. Or you know, joined SHIELD at all. Sure the giant intelligence agency had turned out to be kind of full of corrupt assholes, but what intelligence agency wasn't really? Maybe if they were operational, if this had been a legitimate order instead of a half shrouded favour for Fury, maybe he wouldn't be stuck in a truck stop diner arguing with Bucky fucking Barnes about their broken down car. 

"What, you never fixed a car back in the dark ages?" 

"It was the 1940s asshole. You fly around with mechanical wings, you can’t fix a car?" 

"Not like I built them! You're the one with a mechanical arm." 

"It's just an arm idiot. It doesn't make french fries and shit. "

"Guys. Enough." Steve looks over the menu at them and the two of them shut up. Sam because he remembers that the two men sitting with him are older than his grandmother. And Bucky mostly likely because they're still navigating this relationship as only best friends who inadvertently tried to kill each other can. It’s complicated.

The place is pretty typical for a truck stop. There’s enough grease dripping of the burgers to cook the next one, and then some. Just how Sam likes them. He's only halfway through his first bite when he notices the other two. He's seen Steve put away a lot since they started running together, super soldier metabolism means he's almost always hungry. Sam remembers their first meeting, the food is better now, and a greasy burger is a helluva lot different than some boiled potatoes. 

Bucky though, he's halfway between feral dog and convict, one arm around his plate while he devours a plate of fries before he ever gets to his burger. Sam is pretty sure if his mother could see these two she'd never complain about his eating her out of house and home again. Though she doesn't do that much anymore since he's come home, pushing plates of food at him when ever he goes to visit. Fussing over his clothes and asking if he wouldn't just rather move back with her. 

"If you two don't slow down you're going to make yourselves sick. And I'm not cleaning up after you." Steve looks up with a grin, stuffing a fry in his mouth before winking as he pats his stomach. 

"We lived through the depression Sam, our stomachs are cast iron." Even Bucky cracks a rare smile. Those smiles make it easy to see the carefree kid Steve talked about endlessly while they were searching for the Winter Soldier. Sure that if he could convince Sam that Bucky was in there somewhere, that the killing machine they'd seen in DC wouldn't have fished him out of the Potomac. 

Bucky is trying not to watch the door, the every move of the diner staff. Sam gets it, something like that gets to be second nature after a while.And you get to feeling like you’re unprotected and unprepared when you’re not on full alert. Bucky more so because of what Hydra did to him. But these people don't care who they are, because lots of boys get that Captain America haircut now and he and Sam aren't as well known as their best friend is. There’s a quiet sort of guilt that hangs off the other man, in the same vein as what he felt about Riley but larger. It’s the guilt of a man who will only ever have half broken memories of the awful things he knows he did. Sam can’t tell if it would be better if Bucky could remember or not. 

"You never had a cast iron stomach pal. Two words. Coney Island." He grinned and Steve frowned. Sam was left with the distinct feeling that there were just some things he wasn't ever going to know. 

"Extenuating circumstances Buck."

"Extenuating my ass. You tossed your cookies all over that girl from Poughkeepsie." He grinned devilishly and it was a moment before Steve responded in kind.Sam focused on his food, trying to hold onto the feeling that they were just three buddies hanging out and eating lunch. Not three...what the fuck were they even? Spies? Vigilantes? They weren't mechanics, that was for damn sure. He wasn't even sure how they were going to get home, so it was better to focus on the burger and the low laughter coming from beside him as Bucky tried to contain himself. 

“For a second I thought you were actually going to get somewhere with her and then-” he dissolved into quiet shaking laughter. Sam didn't think he’d ever seen Bucky laugh out loud. 

The door to the diner swung open with a jingle and Natasha strode through the door. Some women glided, some wobbled on too high heels. But Romanov, she walked like she owned the place and everyone noticed. Unless she didn't want you to know she was there, and then...well you were probably screwed. 

“You know you’d think three highly trained super soldiers would be able to sort out how to get home after they've completed their mission.” She stood, arms crossed over chest and Sam raised a finger. 

“To be fair, I’m just highly trained. My mom thinks I’m super though.” he grinned and she shook her head. 

“How’d you even find us?” Steve looked up with something slightly left of awe. He’d given up being surprised by the things Natasha Romanov could do a long time ago. She looked down at Bucky who simply shrugged 

“I called her. Didn't I tell you that?” Steve stared at him in a way that made it very clear to everyone that Bucky had not in fact told anyone that he called Nat. She sighed and dropped down next to Steve, reaching over and grabbing the burger Bucky hadn't gotten to yet. Sam watched the pull in Bucky’s one good arm as he fought to keep himself from snatching it back. 

“Damn boys. That’s good, we should end up here on purpose sometime.” Neither Sam nor Steve miss the way Bucky watches her with a half smile before returning to the plate of fries. It’s better not to comment on the attachment the other man has to Natasha. She probably understands him better than the rest of them do, knows what it’s like to have that much bad shit on your conscience. She handles it better than most. 

“So you’re here to give us a ride?” Steve offers since they seem to have veered from the point. She looks to her car outside and gives the half nod, half shrug he’s so accustomed to now. Another bite of the burger is gone before she finally gives them a real answer. 

“Might be a little cozy, Sam might have to ride in the trunk.” She’s already sliding out of the booth, burger in hand, headed for the door. 

“No Natasha. No.” Bucky pops another fry in his mouth and gives Sam a closed mouth grin before following suit. Nat is already out the door, knowing the boys will follow her eventually.

“Are you listening to me?” Steve knocks once on the table before slipping out carefully, peeling off several bills and handing them to the woman behind the counter.

“Guys..?” Sam is left sitting in the booth with the distinct knowledge that he might just end up in the trunk. Again.

“Oh come on!”


End file.
